


Conquer The Sun

by Sunshinecackle



Series: Shades Of Red And Blue [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Gay, Greek Mythology References, M/M, Slash, Unrequited Love, Yaoi, canon character death, mlm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinecackle/pseuds/Sunshinecackle
Summary: Much like Icarus, Enjolras would not conquer the sun.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: Shades Of Red And Blue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009959
Kudos: 6





	Conquer The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have Twitter and Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunnywritings, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD I can PM it to people who want it on FFN, for everyone else, it’s here: https://discord.gg/FyaWw25
> 
> I have writing requests open on my tumblr! Link here: https://writteninsunshine.tumblr.com/post/633894090732421120/requests-open
> 
> I have been listening to Red and Black on repeat over and over and I don’t know how many times I’ve listened to it. It helps me to keep thinking on these two, and a friend of mine mentioned something totally not connected and my brain went ICARUS and so this happened. I really like how it came out, I hope you guys like it!

Apollo.

Grantaire had compared Enjolras to Apollo since the moment they met. He was the sun that never set, the light that blinded Grantaire in the middle of the night. No, he was a thousand white-hot suns, burning in his chest, fueling the fire of his temper and his righteous desire to fix things. The sun that would arise in the morning wished that it could burn half as brightly as Enjolras and his idealistic speeches. Grantaire did not change his opinions so easily, but the closer the day of their rebellion came, he began to see another figure standing in the light of Enjolras’ beauty.

Icarus.

Icarus flew, on wings of wax and feathers, to the height of the sun. His dreams soared higher than he could climb, his desires were in the forefront of his brain at all times. In ignorance, he flew beyond the safety of the clouds, to the heat of his own heart. In death, he was beautiful and twisted, a boy with an ideal that died with him.

Not to say that Grantaire didn’t put great care into his recreation of The Fall Of Icarus, but he sometimes would grow distracted by the curvature of each muscle. As he painted Enjolras into the distraught hero’s place, he sculpted each of his muscles and every sinewy limb with reverence. The fact that he had the excuse of Icarus wearing little more than his wings and a red sash in order to paint a mostly naked Enjolras never struck him as wrong as long as he had some wine in him. It wasn’t like he would ever get to see him in all of his glory. 

Grantaire was married to his ideals of Enjolras, and Enjolras held no love for anything less than France. Perhaps, he mused sometimes, while taking a sip of his drink, Enjolras, France, and Democracy were in a relationship, and he had to try tirelessly to keep France and Democracy from tearing each other apart. It was another painting sitting half-planned and half-started among the canvases in his apartment. The one with the most color, the most completed, sat before him that afternoon as he began work on the melted wax of the wings, the translucent drips of it over Enjorlas’ torso. 

The sun was setting when he pulled his mind from its current state, and he stumbled from his apartment with a bottle of wine already in his stomach, another in his hand. There would be no way he would miss tonight’s impassioned details to Enjolras’ plans. No doubt Grantaire would say something snarky, he would poke fun and he would laugh at the rumpled, displeased look that would cross his Icarus’ face. 

Just like Icarus, Enjolras would rise to his own challenge and meet his fate. Just like Da Vinci, Grantaire would neglect to finish his magnum opus, leaving it to collect dust as his last testament to his true light. Their blood would run in the streets, in the Musain, useless and for no reason other than a boy flying too close to the sun, following his heart to his death, and another so blinded by him he could not go on without him.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably write Grantaire too sappy, I don’t know why all my fics for him are like this. At any rate, I really wanted to get this idea out, and I hope that it’s good! I hope you guys enjoyed it!


End file.
